Something to Talk About
by DevDaron
Summary: "…we've always been completely honest with each other. You and I, we hang out, we sing flirty duets together...you know my coffee order. Was I supposed to think that was nothing?" Klaine. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** spoilers from most episodes

**A/N:** This is loosely based on the song "Something to Talk About." I plan on having this be very long. This is my own AU of Glee starting when Kurt first transfers with canon intersperse throughout randomly. It was actually meant to start later on as a future-ish fic with Blaine at McKinley, but then I decided to go further back. This is meant to go from when Kurt goes to Dalton, up until Silly Love Songs and maybe other episodes. It is still a WIP so bear with me, please.

**Beware:** this has no beta and is not going to be nearly as awesome as Dalton so don't expect it to be anything like it

**Summary**: "…we've always been completely honest with each other. You and I, we hang out, we sing flirty duets together...you know my coffee order. Was I supposed to think that was nothing?"

Something to Talk About

By Dev Daron

Chapter 1

When Kurt Hummel first joined the warblers, they gifted him with a Warbler. A bird Warbler, that is – not a student Warbler because apparently Dalton isn't _that_ much of a gay magical paradise. ("You mean like a gay Hogwarts?" "Harry Potter references, Blaine? Really?") They bestowed Pavarotti upon him with grand finesse, as the warblers do, and with little apprehension – despite their apparent lack of humor. Kurt wasn't too excited, but it was a bird and it seemed simple enough to take care of.

Since Dalton was not, in fact, a boarding school, it had been difficult for Kurt to decide what to do with the bird. Blaine assured him that leaving Pavarotti in the Warbler common room would be just find, and Kurt agreed since he doubted his teachers would approve of a new addition to their classrooms. So, he left the cage in the commons and continued on with his day,

The courses at Dalton were far more advanced than at William McKinley High, and the course load was so difficult and advanced that the teachers would grade you on a curve based on the highest score in the class. Unfortunately, this didn't always work out as the teachers expected. Especially if Jimmy, for instance, got a 97% and the rest of the class got less than 50. In other words, it was imperative to maintain the same academic level as your classmates.

This was a strange concept to Kurt, considering that at McKinley, it was all individual work where the other students failings or achievements had not affect on another. But here at Dalton, whoever got the highest score on a test set the curve. So, if Jimmy got a 97% and everyone else got 50%...well, it was just too bad.

It definitely wasn't a system that Kurt was accustomed to and what made it even worse was that he definitely was _not_ on par with his fellow classmates. At McKinley, Kurt had been a valedictorian shoe-in, but _here, _he was just…_average_.

To say that the academics and the stress left him preoccupied was a horrible understatement. Not to mention that after the Warbler meeting that day, Blaine had told him that the Warblers would let Kurt audition for a solo for sectionals. So, really, it wasn't his fault that as he scurried to his car in the freezing cold, that he forgot that he now had a new responsibility in the form of a small yellow bird. And thus, he left Pavarotti alone, in the Warbler common room that first night.

The next morning, Kurt had still been preoccupied. He had spent all night going through his ipod for the perfect song, and then spent even more of it practicing. It wasn't until he walked into the Warbler common room and saw the bird cage still on the side table where he left it did he remember his new responsibility.

To make it worse, he wasn't the only one who had discovered this new development. Much to Kurt's horror, Wes, the Warbler committee leader, stood beside Pavarotti's cage, quietly replacing the birdseed.

"Wes," Kurt breathed. Panic welled in his throat. Shit, he was in so much trouble. He was probably going to get kicked out of the Warblers, and then he'd have to go back to McKinley out of pure humiliation.

Wes turned, not looking at all surprised to see Kurt standing in the doorway. He ignored Kurt's gaping.

"Ah, Kurt. There you are," Wes said.

"I-" Kurt floundered for the words.

"I must say that I was quite surprised to find Pavarotti here when I arrived this morning," said Wes as he emptied Pavarotti's water bowl, where feathers had collected.

Kurt remained silent.

"I arrive early, you see," Wes continued. He grabbed a water bottle from his bag and began to fill the water bowl carefully, "to prepare for meetings later in the day."

Wes paused and shot a tight smile over his shoulder at Kurt, "I like to be efficient."

He slowly capped the bottle of water, and pursed his lips at the cage. From here, Kurt could see the bird droppings already littering the bottom. Pavarotti was cleaning his feathers.

"Since I could see no other reason for Pavarotti to be here so early in the morning," Wes continued. "I figured it would be safe to assume that you had arrived early as well, correct?"

Kurt didn't know what to say, because it seemed obvious to him that no, that was not correct.

Wes moved to his council table and started arranging the sheet music, shuffling and choosing songs at random to place at the top of the pile. He hmm and hawed as he looked them over.

He glanced over at Kurt with a cool gaze, and gave him a once-over, "I am glad to see that you are able to take your responsibilities here at Dalton so seriously."

Wes walked to Kurt, finally giving him his full attention. Kurt found it difficult to look Wes in the eye. He felt like he was being reprimanded by a teacher.

"Dedication," Wes said intently, "earns recognition amongst the Warblers." The opposite went unstated. "I hope that you remember that in the future, Kurt."

With that, Wes patted Kurt's shoulder and left, leaving Kurt feeling unsettled and queasy. He walked over to Pavarotti's cage and bit his lip.

"Hey, Kurt!"

Kurt jumped.

"Omygod," he said, putting a hand to his chest to still his frantically beating heart. "Blaine, don't do that!"

Blaine laughed and moved around to Kurt's front, holding his hands up. "Geez, what go you so worked up?"

Kurt gave him a withering glare.

Blaine laughed again. "Alright, alright, I won't sneak up on you ever again, okay? But to be fair, I did text you to let you know that I was coming."

Blaine turned and his eyes alighted on Pavarotti's cage.

"Hey, you brought Pavarotti," Blaine exclaimed. He looked back at Kurt with a teasing smile, "You don't have to bring him every day, you know."

Kurt bit his lip, feeling guilty. "No, actually. I…kind of left him here last night on accident.

Kurt expected Blaine to freeze and to stare at him with a betrayed look. He expected Blaine to get angry and begin to regret begging for Kurt's solo audition. Or at the very least, he expected Blaine to throw him a disappointed look. Instead, Blaine just laughed and started cooing at Pavarotti.

"Oh, you poor Pav," he cooed, bending over so he was eye level with the bird. Pavarotti remained unfazed. "Kurt left you here all by yourself, that meanie. You must have been so cold and scared!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying not to be amused. "O my god, stop! What are you even doing?"

Blaine laughed, his face scrunching up with his teasing grin.

Kurt smiled, feeling relieved. "So, you're not mad? I'm not in trouble?"

Blaine straightened up and gave him an odd look, "Why would I be mad?"

Kurt sighed and looked away.

"I don't know," he said and shrugged. "Because it was irresponsible?"

Blaine nudged Kurt with his shoulder.

"Hey," he said, and waited until Kurt looked him in the eye. "Hey, don't beat yourself up over it. It's not like you did it on purpose. It was an honest mistake." Blaine stared at him intensely, making sure Kurt understood.

"And look," Blaine gestured to the cage, "Pavarotti looks fine, so it's no big deal."

Blaine reached up and squeezed Kurt's shoulder comfortingly. He grinned and teased, "Just don't let it happen again. You don't want Wes to find out."

Kurt blanched.

Blaine must have seen the dawning horror on Kurt's face because he groaned and scrubbed at his face with his hand, "Oh, Kurt. He didn't."

"Oh god," Kurt said.

Blaine looked at him with concern, his hand sliding down to cover his mouth. "What did he say?"

Kurt grew quiet. Blaine's eyes bulged. "Did he- did he verbally beat you, Kurt?"

Kurt gulped. "No. He just- subtly – suggested that I be more responsible, and – I think he may have…threatened?...to kick me out of the Warblers…"

Blaine's triangle eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, "Oh."

"Oh?"

Blaine let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging, "Oh."

"What?" Kurt almost shrieked in his panic."'Oh' what? Is it bad that he didn't verbally beat me? Should he have verbally beat me?"

Blaine shook his head, and sighed again. He leaned his hand heavily on Kurt's shoulder. "Oh god, this is such a relief."

Kurt didn't say anything for a few moments. Blaine released a huff of air.

"What?" Kurt snapped, irritated now.

"I got so worried-"

"Blaine!" Kurt scowled.

Blaine looked up at Kurt with comically wide eyes.

"You don't understand, Kurt. You got off so easy," he paused, letting it sink in. He looked off into space for a moment, before a slowly beginning to grin, "this means Wes _likes_ you."

Kurt scrunched up his nose, "What? I got the impression that he tolerated me at best. I wouldn't go that far."

Blaine threw his head back and laughed, "Oh, come on, Kurt, he called you endearing-" "David was the one who called me endearing" "-and now he is letting you off with a warning!" Blaine shook his head, "soon, you two will become bffs-"

Kurt groaned. "Oh, please shut up."

Blaine mock-gasped, " –and ohmygod, maybe he'll even let you touch his gavel!" Blaine flapped his hands in mock excitement.

Kurt grinned and rolled his eyes. "You did not just say that. And you did _not_ just _do_ that!"

Blaine laughed, then tried to hide his grin, "Trust me, its even better than it sounds. To hold his gavel, in your hands, to feel the raw cosmic power-"he sighed dramatically, "let's just say…" he placed his hand on his chest and tried to look sincere, "it is pure bliss, I assure you."

Kurt nodded, his face serious as if Blaine was bestowing him with the knowledge of the world and everything. Then their faces both slipped, Blaine giggled, Kurt snickered a bit, and then they were gone – their heads were thrown back and they were laughing until their faces were red and Kurt was wiping tears from his eyes.

"Oh my god, we are not talking about this again," Kurt declared amidst giggles, calming down.

Blaine shook his head, his laughter reduced to chuckles, "I can't believe I just said that!"

That common room had become filled with boys who were shooting Kurt and Blaine odd looks. Kurt felt his face redden again, and he nudged Blaine, who was still giggling.

"Come on," Kurt said, amused. "we should probably start heading to class.

"Alright, alright," Blaine straightened up and smoothed down his blazer.

Kurt gestured to Pavarotti, "Will it be okay if I left him here, for now?"

Blaine looked at the bird cage where Pavarotti was softly trilling and hopping around in his bird seed.

He shrugged, "Yeah, he seems fine so I don't see why not."

Kurt nodded and gathered his things.

"As long as you don't forget again," Blaine teased.

Kurt huffed and blushed.

"I won't," he said with a smile,

Kurt grabbed his black messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder. He glanced at Blaine shyly, who just grinned and presented Kurt with his arm. Kurt laughed and looped his arm through, just like he used to with Mercedes, and like that, they began walking down the corridor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"So," Kurt began as they wandered slowly toward their respective classrooms, "did the Warblers gift you with a warbler when you first joined?"

Blaine nodded, "Yes. They give one to everyone who joins. It's a tradition."

"Oh," Kurt said. "What happened to it?"

Blaine frowned. "Nothing?"

Kurt looked at him questioningly.

"I still have her," Blaine explained. "She's at my house."

"Oh," Kurt's eyes bulged, "sorry! I just assumed since you never mentioned it before."

Blaine laughed and shrugged, "Oddly, the fact that I had a pet bird never seemed to come up in conversation before."

"Wait," said Kurt, as he began to realize something. "So you keep them? I thought you just get them your first year or something and then give them back?"

Blaine huffed. "No, of course not! That's just cruel! Especially, after spending a whole year bonding with it. Pavarotti's yours now."

"What?" Kurt said. "That is so bizarre."

Blaine shrugged. "Not really. It's like getting a football jersey. It's exclusively for the team, and it gives you something to remember us by in the future. Except, it's better because it's a live companion."

"Wouldn't that be worse, since they could – you know, die? And not last forever?" Kurt asked.

Blaine frowned.

"I guess," he said, then grinned. "It sounded way better in my head."

Kurt laughed. Blaine just shrugged.

"Anyway," Blaine continued, "Her name is Mantovani" he embellished the name with a poor Italian accent, "prestigious, I know," he grinned and bumped shoulders with Kurt. "She has taught me all there is to know about our aviary brethren, so if you ever need advice for Pavarotti, just let me know."

Kurt rolled his eyes, and grinned, "I'll be sure to remember that. I have no doubt that I will need your 'aviary' expertise."

When they got to Kurt's classroom, they stopped. Blaine reached over to adjust the lapels of Kurt's blazer.

Kurt waited with a small bemused smile, which Blaine noticed and rolled his eyes at, before exaggerating his maternal doting. Kurt laughed and drew the line when Blaine reached up to fix his hair.

"Okay, okay, stop it," Kurt laughed, swatting away Blaine's hands.

"Oh, come on," Blaine said, grinning. He licked his thumb, "Just let me-"

Kurt looked at him horrified, before ducking Blaine's hand and dodging into the classroom.

Blaine laughed behind him.

"Have fun in French," Blaine called through the door.

Kurt waved him away, smiling, already taking his seat.

"And text me when it's over!" Blaine demanded, which for Blaine was actually code for 'text me during class because I am going to be so bored, but the teacher is here so I can't actually ask you do that in front of her/'

Kurt shooed him away, "Get to class!"

Blaine grinned one last time before disappearing from the doorway and down the hall, back the way they came.

Kurt smiled to himself and waited until the bell rang before taking out his phone.

Kurt: Were you late to class?

A few minutes later, he got a response.

Blaine: yes :[

Kurt: haha!

Blaine: she said that she wants to talk to me after class Dx So just meet me at my class.

Kurt: K. and hey, Blaine, guess what?

Blaine: what?

Kurt: Courage xD

Blaine: Omg. Shut up. :]

Kurt: No.

Kurt: Courage xD

Blaine: D;

Kurt: Courage xD

Blaine: You're never going to let that go are you?

Kurt: Courage xD

Blaine: You're making it lose all of its deep meaning!

Kurt: Courage xD

Blaine: You soooooo mature

Kurt: Courage xD

And just to be obnoxious, Kurt kept resending the word 'courage' at random intervals throughout French class while simultaneously trying to take notes. Kurt thought it was pretty impressive that he was able to pay attention at all.

At some point, Blaine got pretty annoyed and gave up responding 'maturely' and instead started sending 'courage' back. It then became a war of 'courage' texts which eventually morphed into a 'who can be more obnoxious' contest where they created different variations of the word 'courage.' Like 'cou-RAGE' which got the response of 'coup-RAGE' and then there was 'cooooooooooooooo rage' and 'kooridge' and 'couraggggggge.'

"Monsieur Hummel."

Kurt jerked his head up, grin sliding off his face. The whole class, including Madame El Feki, was staring at him. She looked down her nose at him, her eyebrows raised.

"I hope you are texting and have, Monsieur Hummel," she said in French, "and have no other reason to be grinning and shifting in your seat."

The class giggled. Kurt flushed. He wanted to sink into his seat.

"Either way," she continued, "they are both not allowed in this classroom. Put it in your pants, and keep your hands out of your lap. This is a warning. Next time, it will be detention."

"Je suis vraiment desolé, Madame El Feki," Kurt mumbled, blushing furiously, and put away his phone.

~glee~glee~glee~glee~

To say that Mercedes Jones was angry would be the understatement of the century, because this diva was _beyond_ furious. She could not believe that Mr. Schuester had, once again, bypassed her exceptional talent for…Quinn and Sam, of all people.

While she cannot deny that they were legit cute with that duet number, she did not think that either of them were sectionals material.

Santana, she believed, would probably actually kill with Valerie – especial after seeing how she totally channeled Tina Turner in their duet of River Deep, Mountain High.

So, after Glee rehearsal that day, Mercedes did what every diva would do: huff and storm out. (She would totally be pulling a Rachel Berry pre-Finchel, but it was after rehearsal and not during so it totally wasn't).

It was times like these when Mercedes really missed Kurt and his post-glee meeting tirades – the ones where he would march down the hall and verbally pick apart each member's flaws and list all the reasons why they were _clearly_ inferior to him and Mercedes.

Well, everyone except Tina, because these bitches love Tina.

Mercedes sighed. She really needed to find someone to diva it up with, she thought as she opened up her locker.

"Hey Mercedes."

Mercedes jumped.

"The lord is testing me," Mercedes mumbled to herself, closing her eyes, before slamming her locker shut. "I swear to God, Anthony, that if you do that again, I _will_ cut you."

Anthony Rashad leaned against the locker beside hers, looking alarmed and pretty damn _fine_ in his red football jersey. Not that she was looking or anything.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "I'm not serious. Now what do you want?"

Anthony shifted. He looked down, looking incredibly awkward, his arms crossing in front of his chest, "Hey, so I heard the guys saying that Kurt left."

Mercedes scoffed. "Yes, I'm sure they're all jazzed about it."

She walked away, holding her books to her chest. Anthony walked beside her, offering to carry her books, much to her surprise.

"Not everyone," he said.

Mercedes looked at him with raised eyebrows.

He cleared his throat. "So, why?"

Mercedes shot him a scathing look, "You shouldn't have to ask why."

Anthony nodded, his face going a bit red, "Right."

Mercedes huffed. She continued on her way, suddenly feeling really awkward and kind of hoping he'd give her books back.

They walked in silence for a few moments. Mercedes wondered if his class was even in the same direction.

"So," Anthony began. "How are you holding up?"

Mercedes sucked in a breath, "Look, Anthony, I'm all for small talk, but this is not something I want to talk about, especially with you. I got to get to class."

Mercedes didn't let him respond. She grabbed her books, and walked into her class, not looking back at Anthony who just hovered for a few minutes in the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Something to Talk About  
**Author: ** **devdaron**  
**pairing**: Kurt/Blaine, others  
**Rating: **PG-13, for now. It will probably eventually get up to NC-17 though, I don't know yet.  
**Warning:** spoilers from most episodes. It starts when Kurt transfers.  
**A/N:** This is loosely based on the song "Something to Talk About." I plan on having this be very long. This is my own AU of Glee starting when Kurt first transfers with canon intersperse throughout randomly. It was actually meant to start later on as a future-ish fic with Blaine at McKinley, but then I decided to go further back. This is meant to go from when Kurt goes to Dalton Academy, up until Silly Love Songs and maybe other episodes. It is still a WIP so bear with me, please.  
**Beware:** this has no beta.  
**Disclaimer**: all characters belong to Fox, glee, Ryan Murphy, etc.  
**Summary**: "…we've always been completely honest with each other. You and I, we hang out, we sing flirty duets together...you know my coffee order. Was I supposed to think that was nothing?"

or here at 

Something to Talk About

By Dev Daron

Chapter 3

"So, why'd you stop texting?" Blaine asked as they were waiting in line at The Lima Bean. "You do realize that I consider this a victory."

Kurt mumbled. He could feel his face reddening quickly. Damn it. Blushing was so not an attractive look for him. He couldn't look at Blaine.

Blaine laughed, "What?"

Kurt groaned, covered his face with his hands, and repeated, louder. "I said I got caught."

Blaine winced, and his mouth twisted in a grimace as he looked apologetically at Kurt.

"Ouch. I'm sorry."

He scooted forward in line, pulling Kurt along by his sleeve.

Kurt sighed into his hands. He peaked through his fingers, his face still very red, "And that wasn't even the worst part."

Blaine looked at him in alarm, "What was the worst part?"

"Oh god," Kurt groaned again, and then took a deep breath.

"She-"Kurt began, then paused. Blaine gestured for him to continue.

"She insinuated that I was masturbating in class," Kurt said in a rush.

Blaine coughed and kind of choked on air for a second, his face going red.

"Are you serious?" He asked Kurt quietly.

Kurt slid his hands off his face with a resigned sigh and nodded. Blaine's eyes bulged.

"Oh my god," Blaine whispered, his hand coming up to cover his mouth – and what Kurt imagined was probably a forming grin – the jerk.

Kurt sighed, and huffed, "Shut up. It's not funny."

Blaine giggled, then bit his finger to stifle it, "It kind of is."

Kurt rolled his eyes, and pouted. He scooted forward in line again, not bothering to make sure Blaine followed. He crossed his arms before realizing he probably shouldn't; this shirt really could not afford wrinkles – after all, that _was_ the whole reason he forced Blaine to hold their coats when they had gotten inside the shop.

Blaine chuckled and hopped forward in line.

"Wait," he said, grinning slowly, "were you?"

"Was I what?" Kurt snapped.

Blaine gave him a look; he looked up at Kurt coyly through his lashes, a dark grin on his lips. He lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head up slowly and suggestively. The look caused Kurt to stare at his lashes and his lips for perhaps a second too long.

Kurt looked away quickly, and the meaning behind the look finally set in.

"Wha-" Kurt sputtered, and blushed furiously. He looked at Blaine with white eyes and exclaimed fervently, "NO! No, of course not!"

Blaine laughed.

"Okay, okay. Calm down," he said, giving one of his squinty-eyed, wide grins, "I was only teasing. I know you weren't."

They got up to the counter and Blaine gave Kurt the 'go ahead' gesture. Kurt shot him an irritated glance, his face still red. Blaine just grinned widely again. Kurt had to clear his throat a few times to get his voice working again.

"I'll have a Non-fat mocha," Kurt finally said, his voice decidedly not cracking prepubescently.

"And a Medium drip, for me, thanks," Blaine added, smiled at Kurt then smiled at the barista, who just took their order with an amused smirk.

Kurt huffed and wrinkled his nose after Blaine gave his order. "That, my friend, is the order of a true caffeine addict."

Blaine rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose back. "Don't judge me."

He snatched Kurt's portion of the money out of Kurt's hand and handed it over to the barista, with another polite smile. Kurt may or may not have glared at her when Blaine's back was turned.

Kurt smirked when Blaine turned back. "No judgment, just a fact."

"Yes, well, I can see the judgment all over your face," Blaine said gesturing at said face.

Kurt just smothered a grin, "Nope. No. Not judging – at all."

"Yea, whatever," Blaine pouted, "You're just bitter because I laughed at you, so, now you're making fun of me for my coffee preferences."

"I would never," Kurt protested, putting a hand over his heart.

Their orders were called up. They grabbed their respective drinks, and Kurt took note as Blaine grabbed the jar of cinnamon off the counter and took it with him to their seats. Kurt sat down. Blaine draped their coats over the seats across from them and slid into the seat to Kurt's left – which was odd because when it was just the two of them, they usually sat opposite of each other. Kurt smiled into his coffee as he took a sip. He couldn't help grimacing at the taste a little bit. He watched and waited as Blaine to finish poured copious amounts of cinnamon into his Medium Drip.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the cinnamon jar.

"Really?"

Blaine huffed and grumbled teasingly, "First my coffee order and now the cinnamon. You just can't let it go, can you?"

Kurt laughed, "Well, I'm sorry if I find your taste strange and decide to express my opinion."

Blaine stopped stirring his coffee and pointed the stirring stick at Kurt, narrowing his eyes.

"I love cinnamon," Blaine said emphatically. He waved his stick in Kurt's face, "And I _know_ you do, too, so don't _even_ complain. And now," Blaine licked the stick clean, and turned back to his coffee, replacing its lid, "because of me and my genius thieving ways, we have it all to ourselves, so there."

Kurt rolled his eyes, and grinned. He grabbed the cinnamon and poured a bit into his own coffee.

"So," Blaine said, changing the subject before Kurt could respond. "Have you decided what you were going to sing for the audition?"

"Yes, actually," Kurt said. He stirred and licked his own stirring stick, before replace the lid. "I think so, but I wanted to visit Rached before making any decisions."

"Rachel?" Blaine asked, surprised. "Not Mercedes? Or…anyone else?"

Kurt busied himself with sipping his coffee and fiddling with his napkin.

Blaine frowned, but didn't pry.

"So that means you're going to McKinley, right?" he asked instead, "Is that safe?"

Kurt sighed.

"Kurt," Blaine said, waiting until Kurt looked him in the eye.

Blaine held his gaze and raised his eyebrows.

Kurt scowled and looked away.

"Okay, probably not," Kurt admitted.

Blaine narrowed his eyes in concern, "Kurt-"

"But," Kurt said hurriedly, "I'll be fine. I'll just need to avoid Karofsky. I'll go when he leaves for his daily McDonald's run."

Blaine opened his mouth again to reply, a myriad of emotions flitting across his face.

"No," Kurt said forcefully. "I don't need you to come with me."

Blaine frowned. "Kurt, I can't just let you-"

"I'll be fine," Kurt insisted stubbornly.

Blaine set his jaw and narrowed his eyes, again, "Kurt-"

"Besides," Kurt interrupted. He took a sip of his coffee quickly and teased with a nudge, "I don't think you'll be much help anyway."

Blaine looked almost angry for a second – just a flash of frustration and consternation. He exhaled through his nose slowly, then clenched an unclenched his fist for a moment. He looked down, inhaled, and let it go. Kurt watched him with concern. He wondered if this was going to be like one of those moments that happen in the movies, where the nice guy just suddenly has a burst of anger stemming from a fierce over-protectiveness. He also wondered, if that happened, if Blaine would also go into a rage and then destroy everything in the coffee shop à la Sue Sylvester. He tried picturing it, and absolutely did not think it would be hot. Not at all. He tried to control the blush that was forming.

Blaine didn't seem to notice. Instead of doing any of that – Kurt tried not to feel vaguely disappointed - Blaine grinned, straightened his posture and stuck his nose in the air – high enough that he had to crane his neck back comically.

"Are you implying, sir," Blaine said in a faux snooty British accent, "that I am of a short stature?"

Kurt frowned at him, before remember what they were talking about. He grinned playfully.

"Not at all," Kurt replied, taking a sip of his coffee as if trying to hide his smile. "I was merely implying that the average 'stature' that would be helpful in this situation is perhaps significantly taller than that of yours."

Blaine pouted and elbowed Kurt in the ribs, who just laughed.

Blaine grew serious again, grin sliding off his face, "When are you going?"

Kurt sighed in irritation. "Tomorrow."

Blaine frowned, "But the audition is tomorrow."

"I'm leaving at lunch," Kurt said. He shrugged and sipped his coffee.

Blaine stared at him in concern. Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine.

"I'll be fine."

Blaine huffed.

"Fine," Blaine conceded grudgingly, "I won't bug you about going"

Kurt smiled and hummed. "Thank you."

"But," Blaine said. Kurt sighed in exasperation and had the maddening urge to just throw his cup down. He looked at Blaine incredulously. Blaine held his hands up, "Just promise to at least text me every few minutes so that I know you're okay."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Alright. I promise I will."

Blaine checked his pocket watch, and stood up. "Lunch is almost over. We should be heading back."

"Okay," Kurt stood and grabbed his cup.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's coat. Kurt grabbed Blaine's scarf to help drape it over Blaine's shoulders just so, and Blaine held out Kurt's coat for him, who slid into it smoothly.

"Let's try not to get there late," Blaine said with a long-suffering sigh, "Otherwise people might start talking."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. I'm more concerned about the phone calls home to my dad." He waved his hand vaguely in the air. "Otherwise, let them talk."

Blaine started to grin slowly. He took Kurt's coffee away from him, then placed it and his own on the table.

Kurt groaned, watching him do all this in resignation. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," Blaine agreed, holding out his hand for Kurt.

Kurt sighed, trying to look put-upon even though he was biting his lip to keep from grinning.

Blaine began.

"People are talking," Blaine sang. He gestured for Kurt to continue. People were already beginning to look their way curiously. (And, somewhere in the background, Brad Ellis found a piano and began to play).

Kurt rolled his eyes, but sang obediently: "Talking 'bout people."

Blaine grinned, and Kurt could practically see Blaine's eyes light up, pleased. "I hear them whisper…"

"You won't believe it," Kurt leaned in and pretended to whisper.

Blaine pulled on Kurt's hand and spun him around The Lima Bean. More people were staring at them and Kurt blushed under the attention. He seemed to be blushing a lot today.

Blaine continued, not batting an eye, "They think we're lovers, kept under cover."

"I just ignore it, but they keep saying…"

They laughed and continued in unison, Blaine guiding Kurt in an odd waltz around the tables.

"We laugh just a little too loud," they sang. Blaine spun Kurt then drew him close, "We stand just a little too close."

Blaine stared into his eyes, "We stare just a little too long."

Kurt looked away, suddenly feeling awkward under the scrutiny and under the attention of all the people.

"Maybe they're seeing," Blaine sang, "something we don't, darling."

Blaine pulled away and shimmied near some of the customers.

"Let's give them something to talk about," Kurt sang. He laughed with the patrons at Blaine's antics and swayed to the imaginary music.

"A little mystery to figure out," Blaine sang, skipping a few lines. He spun and danced back to Kurt.

"Let's give them something to talk about."

Blaine pulled Kurt close, and leaned their heads together.

"How about lo~ove!"

Kurt stared at Blaine after they held the final note and flushed. Blaine laughed and pulled away, bowing to their audience. He grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him out of the coffee shop.

"Now we are going to be really late!" Blaine exclaimed, jogging to the car with Kurt in tow.

Kurt laughed, feeling an adrenaline high, "You're insane."

Blaine grinned at him cheekily, "Yes, but you love it."

Kurt blinked, his smile sliding off his face. He let Blaine drag him all the way across the parking lot.

"Yeah," Kurt said quietly, staring at their joined hands. He frowned, then looked at Blaine's back, "I do."


End file.
